


bella durmiente

by orphan_account



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: 2019 is the year i devote myself to this crack ship i guess, Alternate Universe - Sleeping Beauty Fusion, Crack, F/M, Fluff and Humor, i just love messing around ehehehehehehe, lots and lots of it, not necessarily a big reflection on how i imagine their relations in a modern au or any au tbh, the family tree is messed around with in this one for funsies, the fourth wall is completely obliterated here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 12:22:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17580770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's the story we all know and love about a cursed princess, her three humble fairy guardians, her prince charming and an evil fairy – just with some slight changes here and there.(Alternate summary: Miguel tries to read his little sister a naptime story based on the tale of sleeping beauty, and decides to change things up a bit because he's tired of the typical 1959 disney princess tale style. Then Rosa steps in, and the rest goes about as well as you'd expect it to.)





	bella durmiente

**Author's Note:**

> warning: the following is written in a modern au and contains crack, a seriously fractured fairy tale, constant fourth wall breaking along with film references (and yes, this includes sources that fall under the "non-disney" category), crack ship galore, some serious family tree rearrangements, loads of humor that is probably unfunny - and you know the drill. it's your average crackfic, basically.
> 
> if you are willing to read some crack, then buckle up! it's going to be a bumpy ride.

Five year-old Socorro Rivera lay down in her bed, clutching the sheets as her thirteen year-old brother, Miguel, sat at the edge, singing her a lullaby their uncle – their cousin once removed, really – had written called _Remember Me._ Since it was her favorite song, he figured that he could sing it for her in order to get her to take her nap, while their father and mother could rest without having to try and put her to sleep themselves.

 

However, the little girl still wasn't tired, even after he had finished singing the song. Instead, she sat up and asked: "Miguel, could you tell me a story?"

 

"If it'll get you to sleep, then of course," he replied with a nod. "What kind of story did you have in mind?"

 

"One with princesses, princes, fairies, dragons and magic!" his little sister exclaimed happily.

 

Miguel rolled his eyes. He always thought those types of fairy tales were too mushy gushy at times – especially in the romance department – for his taste, but he knew he couldn't object to his little sister's request. She was only five, so _of course_ those were the kinds of stories she liked to hear. "Okay then. Your wish is my command, _hermanita_ ," he said teasingly, getting a few giggles out of her. He went over to the bookshelf beside her bed, looking over all of the fairy tales.

 

"Oooh! Could you read me the one with the sleeping princess?" Socorro asked suddenly, just as Miguel's hand brushed over the side cover of the book.

 

"You mean _Bella Durmiente_?" he asked, receiving a nod from her. His nose scrunched up a little. "Why do you want me to read that one, of all the books?"

 

"Because it's a fun story!" she shot back.

 

"But it's so… simple!" Miguel argued. "And the princess doesn't even have much of a role, despite the story being about her!"

 

His little sister's lip quivered as she gave him big, adorable puppy dog eyes. She even went as far as to mimic Dante's whimpering.

 

"Fine, _fine_!" Miguel groaned, rolling his eyes as he relented. "I'll read _Bella Durmiente._ "

 

"YAAAAAAAY!" Socorro squealed, falling back onto the bed, kicking her legs in excitement as her brother pulled the book out of the shelf.

 

 _But that doesn't mean I won't put a few twists on it,_ Miguel added to himself. After all, like his Tío Héctor would always say, it never hurts anyone to change things up a bit. It can even be fun at times. So, with his uncle's words in mind, he began to tell the tale aloud.

 

* * *

 

Once upon a time, there once was a kingdom in Mexico. It was ruled by a benevolent king and a kindhearted queen who longed for nothing more than to have a child of their own. At last, the blessed day arrived when they welcomed a healthy, beautiful, ebony-haired baby girl into the world and their lives – a little girl who they named Victoria. Yes, they literally named their child "victory"– but hey, at least they didn't give her a really common name that's now the go-to for all Latina characters like María, or a really long and complicated name like  _Teodora Vicenta de la Purísima Concepción de la Inmaculada Trinidad Villavicencio, Duquesa de Oraverás, Marquesa del Jujuy y niña de la Condesa._

 

Anyway, moving on – it was custom for the birth of a royal baby to be celebrated as though it were a holiday, like Navidad, Hanukkah, Día de los Muertos, Año Nuevo... you get the point. So the great holiday was proclaimed throughout the whole kingdom, so that all people of every class could pay homage to the newborn princess. It is no coincidence that our story begins on that very joyous day... 

 

* * *

 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Miguel and Socorro’s fifteen year-old cousin, Rosa, cut in as she walked into the room. “Isn’t the princess in _Bella Durmiente_ called Aurora? Because I’ve watched the film several times, and I could’ve sworn that her name was _not_ Victoria.”

 

“Well–” Miguel started, only to be cut off as she went on.

 

“Unless of course, you decided to name the princess after Tía Victoria,” Rosa said in an almost teasing manner, complete with a cheeky grin on her face. “And if that’s the case, then I’m afraid that I’m gonna have to tell her about this~”

 

“Uh, well, I… um…” Miguel trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Finally, he let out a sigh. “Fine, I’ll admit it: I _did_ name her after Tía Victoria,” he confessed. “But only because the princess in the original story barely has any lines or focus, so she’s not as fleshed out as say, Princesa Bella or Princesa Merida! At least putting Tía Victoria in the role would make the character a bit more interesting!”

 

“Hmmm…” Rosa put her hand under her chin, nodding at his words. “You’ve got a good point.” An idea popped into her mind suddenly. “Tell you what: if you let me take over and add onto this version of the story, then I won’t tell Tía Victoria about this. Does that sound fair enough?”

 

“I… guess so,” Miguel said slowly.

 

“Good.” Rosa went over and sat down next to him. “Now, let’s continue.”

 

“Yippee!” Socorro squealed as her brother scooched over to the side, allowing her cousin to read the book.

 

* * *

 

On this glorious day, the entire kingdom celebrated the royal birth of Princess Victoria. Not too long after most of the subjects had gathered did King Julio and Queen Coco welcome in their lifelong amigo from the kingdom nearby, King Maximiliano Juan Pablo Gerónimo Pérez y de la Cruz y Santos – known by most people as simply Chicharrón, because he knew that not a lot of people would be able to pronounce such a long name without having to gasp for air between each word stated, since people never pronounced Diego Rivera’s full name _Diego María de la Concepción Juan Nepomuceno Estanislao de la Rivera y Barrientos Acosta y Rodríguez_  for a _reason._ The king also brought his toddler son, Ernesto, along with him.

 

* * *

 

“ _WAIT A MINUTE_!” Miguel yelled out, causing Rosa and Socorro to jump slightly. “Old man Cheech is King Hubert? _And Ernesto is Prince Phillip_?!”

 

“Yeah,” Rosa replied, looking at her cousin as though a big pimple had grown near the place where his non-existent dimple was. “Do you have a problem with that?”

 

“Yeah, because Tía Victoria doesn’t even _like_ Ernesto, let alone wanna _be_ with him!” Miguel answered, emphasizing on some of his words. “She thinks he’s an annoying flirt, and need I remind you that he’s Tío Héctor’s _best friend?_ Tío Héctor, aka her _older twin brother_!”

 

“Oh _please,_ Primo,” Rosa scoffed at this, rolling her eyes. “If you had paid attention to her actions, you would’ve easily caught onto the fact that Tía Victoria secretly likes de la Cruz. I mean, look at her body movements and how she seems to smile after he leaves – that girl’s caught, hook, line and sinker.” She smirked at him. “Face the facts: they’ve both got the hots for each other.”

 

“Whatever,” Miguel grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Let’s just continue.”

 

"Good," Rosa said smugly. "And no more interruptions, por favor. _Got it_?"

 

"Got it," her cousin sighed.

 

“Tía Vico and Ernie, sitting in a tree!” Socorro began chanting, much to her brother's chagrin. “K-i-s-s-i-n-g!”

 

* * *

 

“Presenting their royal highnesses, King Chicharrón and Prince Ernesto!” a woman with blue hair wearing a pink dress announced.

 

The king and prince both stepped in, bowing to King Julio and Queen Coco.

 

“Ah, Chicharrón!” Julio took the other king’s hand and began to shake it. “It’s great to see you again!”

 

“The feeling’s mutual,” Chicharrón returned in a gruffy, yet cheerful tone. Once he was done shaking his friend’s hand, he turned to his son and whispered, “Go on. Give your future _esposa_ your gift.”

 

Yes, _esposa_ – both monarchs had fondly dreamed of the day their kingdoms would unite, and thus it was decided that today they would announce that Prince Ernesto and Princess Victoria would be betrothed. And so to his future wife, did the prince bring his gift. He looked unknowingly at his bride-to-be, but forced a smile upon seeing the glare his father shot at him.

 

It was also custom in that day for the newborn royal to be blessed with gifts from three good fairies, too. 

 

A trumpet was played as the announcer soon declared: “The most honored and exalted excellencies, the three good fairies! Señorita Imelda, Señorita Rosita and Señora Frida!”

 

As if they were almost right on cue, they floated down towards the crib.

 

“Wait,” Imelda said, immediately realizing that something was off. She looked at herself, then at the two other fairies - especially at Frida. “Are you _serious?_ I have to work with  _her_ of all the fairies?”

 

“Just hush, Imelda, and look at the darling niñita!” Rosita said, before cooing and waving at the princess, who gurgled and reached her hands out in response.

 

“Such a marvelous little one!” Frida said, hovering over the princess’ crib. “I can see that she’s got great potential. She will be an inspiring queen, no doubt!”

 

Imelda looked into the crib, and saw that the princess was indeed an adorable one. “Your majesties,” she began, turning to the king and queen. “Each of us will now bless the child with a single gift. Nothing more, nothing less. Understood?”

 

The king and queen nodded, and Imelda went over to the cradle. “Dear princess, my gift to you is the gift of intelligence,” she stated with a smile, waving a magical boot over her, sprinkling a bit of shiny dust down upon the baby.

 

“Um, don’t you think that maybe the gift should be one of beauty or kindness instead?” Julio asked the fairy, while the blessing settled upon his daughter.

 

“Now, why would she need the gift of beauty when she’s got a good-looking, gentle padre y madre?” Imelda asked in a rhetorical manner. “She’ll be beautiful _and_ kind when she grows up, I can assure you. Besides, if she’s going to grow up in this time period, then she’ll need some wit if she’s going to survive it.”

 

“Well… I suppose you’re right,” Coco agreed with the fairy. “It’s a very… thoughtful gift.”

 

Imelda smiled at this. “De nada!” She made a gesture at Rosita. “It’s your turn to give her your gift, Rosita.”

 

Rosita approached the cradle, beaming down at the tiny princess. “Darling little princess, my gift shall be one of song,” she spoke kindly, waving a magical rose above her.

 

 _“One gift, the gift of song,”_ a choir in the background began to sing, allowing the newborn to dive deep into a vision of herself in the future. _“Melody her whole life long. The nightingale's her troubadour,_ _bringing her sweet serenade to her door…”_

 

Once Rosita’s blessing settled on the princess, it was finally Frida’s turn. The third fairy came up to the cradle with a confident smile on her face. “Sweet, glorious princess,” she started. “I shall give you the most extraordinary gift! My gift to you shall be–”

 

There was a savage blow of the wind, making the doors swing open. Lightning and thunder flashed, before a dark fairy appeared.

 

“It’s Malévolo!” Rosita gasped in fear.

 

“I thought she didn’t do parties,” Frida whispered in surprise.

 

“Shhhhh!” Imelda shushed her.

 

“Quite the assembly you’ve got here, King Julio,” Malévolo commented as she looked around the room. “Royals, nobels, the gentry and – oh, how quaint it is of you to invite even the lowliest commoners.”

 

Imelda started to angrily fly towards Malévolo, but was held back by both Rosita and Frida.

 

“I really felt quite disappointed when I didn’t receive an invite.”

 

“You weren't wanted here,” Frida said firmly, her eyes narrowing at the fairy.

 

“Because no one likes you, _diabla bruja_!” Imelda added, trying to spit in the dark fairy’s direction.

 

“Not wanted?” Malévolo turned to the king and queen. “Oh, how awkward this is. I thought that you had just forgotten – but oh well, I’d best be on my way now.”

 

“A-and you aren’t angry?” Coco asked, both her voice and body trembling with fear.

 

“Why no, of course not,” Malévolo replied with faux-sweetness. “And to show that I hold no contempt for you or your familia, I shall bestow my own gift upon the child.”

 

Imelda, Rosita and Frida surrounded the cradle in an attempt to protect it, but their efforts proved useless in the end. Malévolo raised her staff, causing a huge cloud of smoke to appear. “Listen well, all of you!” she shouted. “The princess shall indeed grow in grace and beauty, beloved by the entire kingdom – but before the sun sets on her twentieth birthday, she shall play a violin once, before _dying!_ ”

 

“Oh no!” Coco took her daughter into her arms, trying her best to shield her baby girl from the curse.

 

“Seize that demonia!” Julio shouted as he pointed at Malévolo, who was laughing evilly.

 

But before the guards could seize the dark fairy, she and her vulture disappeared in a flash of lightening, with her evil laughter echoing throughout the castle.

 

“Mi pobre bebita,” Coco despaired as she rocked her now wailing daughter in her arms, trying her best to calm her down. “There must be something we can do – a counter curse, or a remedy. Something, _anything_!”

 

The room went silent as the baby’s cries dissolved into whimpers, and nobody knew the answer to the desperate mother’s plea. Then, Imelda stepped up to the king and queen. “Don’t fret, your majesties. Frida still has yet to give her gift.”

 

“Fair Frida, can your magic spare our daughter from such a terrible fate?” Julio asked in a hopeful manner, fighting back his tears as he embraced his wife and daughter. Their tears fell upon the baby’s blanket, while their daughter looked up at them in fear, sensing that something was wrong since both of her parents were crying.

 

“I’m afraid not,” Frida answered, shaking her head. “Malévolo’s powers are far too great, _but_ I can try.” She approached the king and queen, who held their daughter out to her. “In the end, it doesn’t matter what gift I had originally planned to bestow upon her. I have to clean up the mess left by that wretched woman.” She shot an apologetic look at the baby’s parents. “Sorry, your majesties. Your daughter will just have to grow up without having the gift of being artistic, unable to express herself through macabre and surrealism.”

 

“And she can’t have both because…?” Rosita trailed off, not really understanding why it had to be only one gift. “Who’s making up these rules?”

 

Frida raised a magic paintbrush. “Lovely princess, you shall not perish when you play that violin. There is a ray of hope within this gift that I give you – the gift of sleep. You shall only be awaken by the kiss of true love – and if that takes a while, then the rest of the castle will fall asleep with you, too. Time will be frozen as you await that glorious day.” With a wave of the paintbrush, the gift was given. She turned to the king and queen. “That way, she won’t die at the hands of the curse, you won’t have to wait so long for her to awake _and_ she’ll have found the proper prince!”

 

“But there is a proper prince already!” Chicharrón yelled out, making everyone turn to him and his son who were still very much right there in the same spot as they had been at the beginning of the party.

 

“Ah, right…” Frida then shrugged. “Well, she’ll have Ernesto as a husband then.”

 

 _“For true love conquers all~!”_ the choir sang, much to the prince’s disgust and annoyance as he was still a young boy and young boys didn’t really care much for romance, even back then.

 

But of course, King Julio’s fears for his daughter’s life did not cease, so he did then and there decree out of a strong sense of paranoia that every violin in the kingdom should be burnt that very day – and so it was done because no one seriously stopped to think that maybe they should just lock up the instruments on the princess' twentieth birthday. Instead, they just burnt the violins into a crisp, before roasting their marshmallows over the bonfire.

 

* * *

 

 

Hours after the event, the three good fairies sat alone in empty throne room.

 

“This is stupid,” Imelda muttered, scowling as she moved away from the balcony.

 

Rosita sat on the steps, while Frida sat on the stool of the king’s throne. Rosita waved her magic rose and whipped up some tea along with cups, as did Frida. “You ought to have a nice cup of tea, Imelda,” Rosita said. “I’m sure everything will work out in the end somehow.”

 

“Well, a bonfire certainly isn’t going to stop that _bruja,_ ” Frida commented as Rosita poured tea into her teacup. “That’s for certain.”

 

“Obviously!” Imelda took a teacup from Rosita, still worried for the princess’ well-being. “But what will stop her?”

 

“We could try reasoning with her,” Rosita suggested.

 

Imelda nearly spat out her tea. “ _Reason_?”   

 

Frida looked at Rosita incredulously. “With _Malévolo_?”

 

Rosita looked between them, shrugging her shoulders. “Well, she can’t be all bad.”

 

“Oh, yes she _can_!” Imelda retorted, stepping away from her fellow fairies as she went to pace back and forth.

 

“I hope she chokes on her own staff one day,” Frida grumbled angrily.

 

Rosita frowned at that. “Now, that’s not very nice to say.”

 

“Besides, she’s too clever and powerful to do such a stupid thing,” Imelda said as she walked back over to the two. “No, no… there’s got to be some way…” She thought for a while, until an idea hit her. “There is!”

 

Frida and Rosita quickly got up and went over to the leading fairy.

 

“There is?”

 

“What is it, Imelda?”

 

“I’m going to–” Imelda began excitedly, before covering her mouth upon realizing that someone could overhear their conversation. She put her hands on the two fairies’ mouths. “ _Silencio_. Even the walls have ears.” They all looked around to see if there was someone listening, before she then waved her magic boot and said: “Follow me.” They all minimized themselves, and the two followed her into the insides of a mini-throne dollhouse on the table. The three gathered around a cup as she exclaimed, “I’ll turn her into a boot!”

 

“Malévolo?” Frida asked excitedly, liking where this was going.

 

Imelda laughed. “Oh no – I mean the princess!”

 

“Oh, she’d make a beautiful shoe!” Rosita bubbled over the idea.

 

“Don’t you see? A shoe can’t pick up a violin and play it!” Imelda went on.

 

“It hasn’t got any hands,” Frida stated, holding up Imelda’s hand.

 

The two nodded. “That’s right!” Rosita chirped happily.

 

“She’ll be perfectly safe.”

 

Frida was about to go on, until she realized something. “Until Malévolo decides to send her vulture to tear her apart with its beak.”

 

“Yes, yes–” Imelda was nodding excitedly, until Frida’s words sank in. “Oh _dios,_ no…”

 

Rosita placed a hand on Imelda’s shoulder. “She always finds a way to ruin your shoes.”

 

“You’re right,” Imelda realized. “And she’ll probably even expect us to do something like that.”

 

“What won’t she expect at this point?” Frida asked, sitting down on a golden spoon. “She practically knows everything.”

 

“But she doesn’t know everything,” Rosita pointed out. “She knows nothing about love, kindness or the joys of helping others…”

 

Then another idea struck Imelda. “That’s it! _Of course!_ That’s the only thing she _can’t_ understand and _won’t_ expect!” She began walking around the place, giggling with joy. “Now, we have to plan this carefully. Let’s see… the shoe shop in the outskirts of town, yes – the abandoned one.” Rosita followed Imelda as she went on: “Of course the king and queen are going to object, but when we explain it’s the only way–”

 

“Explain _what,_ exactly?” Frida asked, stepping in front of Imelda.

 

 “About the three shoemaking women raising their niece in the outskirts of town,” Imelda replied simply.

 

“How sweet of them,” Rosita commented.

 

“Who are they?” Frida asked curiously.

 

Imelda motioned for them to face the mirror. “Turn around, and you’ll find out.” While they turned to face the mirror, Imelda changed all of their outfits to simple ones.

 

Rosita jumped back, startled. “Why, it’s us!” she cried out, suddenly ecstatic.

 

“You mean _we_ us?” Frida questioned, gesturing to herself and Rosita.

 

Rosita hopped up and down in excitement. “Taking care of the baby?”

 

“Why not?”

 

Frida looked into the mirror, her face scrunching up as she saw that her dress was purple. She quickly changed her attire to orange, yellow and pink, just the way she liked it.

 

“Why, I’d like that!”

 

“But we’d have to feed her,” Frida pointed out.

 

Rosita’s wings fluttered as she jumped into the air. “And wash her, dress her and cradle her in our arms as we try to rock her to sleep! Oh, I love that idea!”

 

Frida approached Imelda. “Do you really believe we can do this whole motherly business?”  

 

“If humans can do it, then we can too,” Imelda said firmly. “ _Without_ magic.” She took Rosita’s magic flower, then removed her wings.

 

Frida clutched her paintbrush, holding it close to her as if it were her own child. “You mean you want us to live like mortals for twenty years?” She tried to fly away, only for Imelda to remove her wings. She tried to run away as Imelda went to grab her paintbrush. “But we don’t have any experience with children! We’ll need our magic for washing, cooking, entertainment–”

 

“Nonsense!” Imelda snatched the paintbrush away. “This is the only way Malévolo won’t suspect a thing. As for the chores, we’ll all pitch in.” She removed her own wings, then stepped out of the dollhouse. “Come now, we’ve got to let their majesties in on this plan right away.” She changes herself to normal size, but almost forgot about Rosita and Frida.

 

“Imelda!” they cried out in unison.

 

She noticed and blew Rosita and Frida into their normal size. Together, they all left the room to inform the king and queen about their plan.

 

* * *

 

Outside the castle, Julio and Coco looked down towards the fairies with heavy hearts as they carried their most precious child – their first daughter – away, disappearing into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that’s it for the first chapter! 
> 
> on a sidenote: for the names thing, i’m not trying to mock people with long names (heaven forbid i do so, since my name is also pretty long) or those who name their ocs really common spanish names like maría – i’m just trying to get a few laughs here and there, you know? because this fic is a crack fic, that’s all. nothing serious.
> 
> with that said, i hope you guys enjoyed because there’ll be more to come soon!


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